


dear to the heart

by scattered_dream



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Divergence, Elements of Cinderella, Fluff, Lucis Caelum Family, M/M, Meet-Cute, Noctis and Squall are brothers, both princes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scattered_dream/pseuds/scattered_dream
Summary: This year's summertime ball proves to be quite different from years past. Princes Noctis and Squall Lucis Caelum both find someone whom they connect to, but they have no idea just how special these two attendees will become to them in time.





	dear to the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Squall's point of view_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japanese words in this chapter -  
弟 Otōto (おとうと) - _little brother_ or _younger brother_  
雨 Ame (あめ) - _rain_

"Come on, Squallie. Wipe off your frown," Noctis told him calmly as he adjusted his formal wear for perhaps the fifth or sixth time since he'd put it on. "This isn't supposed to be torture, you know." 

Squall didn't miss the teasing quality of his older brother's voice - or the fact that he'd called him a nickname that he most certainly did not approve of - as Noctis walked towards him and fixed the awkwardly folded-down collar of his formal wear so it no longer rubbed uncomfortably against his clavicle. 

"Right," he huffed. "Thanks." 

Noctis laughed - _like he always does at my pain, the bastard, _Squall lamented idly - but the younger of the two brothers didn't even have the energy to snap at him. Most of his day had entailed a whole lot of fretting about tonight, and it had taken a lot out of him. 

The duration of his morning had been spent lying in his chambers with his hands covering his face, taking deep breaths at an attempt to calm his heart. When he'd heard _Noctis _making some noise down the hall, he knew he'd stayed in bed far too long and had to get up and face the day. 

Lunch time was followed by some solid pacing around the palace for the rest of the afternoon, until his father had stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a gentle nudge towards their 'dressing room' (why their home possessed a room solely for the purpose of changing clothes was beyond him). He was wise enough not to roll his eyes in front of his father at the mention of changing into his dress attire, inclining instead to gulp down the lump in his throat that always formed in anticipation of formal events such as these, in which he would have to talk to people. And in tonight's case, _dance _with them, too. 

Every annual summer ball was similar to the previous, so Squall thought he knew what was coming. He figured that should provide at least _some_ comfort to his overactive nerves, but he found it really didn't. In fact, it somehow made his anxiety about the whole ordeal even worse. 

(It would happen like this: Squall would enter the ballroom with an extremely forced smile, it taking no longer than three seconds to wish he were someplace else, because really, _anywhere_ would be better than amongst a crowd of people he didn't know, the majority of whom saw him as 'Squall Lucis Caelum, prince of Lucis' more than the average seventeen-year-old he truly was. He wished they would see the truthful version of himself rather than the persona; then they would have _no_ reason at all to ask him for a dance, or to watch him shuffle his feet and adjust his clothing, just to have something to do other than stand there, stupidly gaping at the mass of people. 

He would try his hardest not to count the seconds that passed by, because it would only suffice to make the night feel even longer. He would eat and drink when he wasn't roped into interacting with other humans, eventually seeking out Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio in order to feel less alone in the expansive room comprised mainly of strangers.

Then he'd attempt to dip out early, only for his father to come over and ruin his chances of getting out of there. Of _course_ the king would have to check on how his sons were doing at the _exact_ moment Squall had been planning to make his (admittedly cowardly) escape... it happened every year without fail. 

By the time the last group of guests were leaving, Squall would be practically falling asleep stood up, ready to collapse into his bed the very moment he was allowed to head upstairs to his chambers. He had fallen asleep just like that at the end of last year's ball, without even bothering to change into his sleep clothes.) 

"Remind me to sneak in a flask of something when Dad isn't looking," Squall muttered presently, pinching the bridge of his nose to dull his oncoming headache. Things were only going to get worse... 

"As if you could get your hands on anything with Ignis in the kitchen right now," Noctis scoffed. "And all that's gonna be served is wine, you know that. Lots and lots of it in a neat row, just _calling_ for guests to drink too much of." 

"That does the job, though, doesn't it?" Squall asked, not really caring about the logistics. He'd made his point, hadn't he? 

"Ah, you're so naive, Squall," was the snarky reply he received. 

"Don't act like you throw back shots on the weekends," he said, rolling his eyes. "Couldn't hurt to drink _something_ that'll make me feel less sick," he added under his breath with a sigh. 

His brother's expression softened. "Hey..." he breathed, the huff of air causing his black bangs to flutter in front of his eyes. "It's gonna suck, but just know you're not alone, alright? I hate these things as much as you do." 

Squall knew that, he really did. Of course Noctis understood his feelings of dread... 

Both boys were extremely introverted, reserved teenagers who much preferred either solitude or time spent with those they were closest to over the company of anyone else. Squall had always been particularly shy, however.

He found it difficult to speak to nearly anyone that wasn't just his family, and situations in which he was required to often caused his embarrassing stutter - the one he had struggled to get rid of throughout all of his childhood - to return. Progress had been made through the many speech therapy sessions he endured over the years, but it still came out when he felt jittery, and always made itself known whenever the beginning threads of what might actually be considered _panic_ settled into his gut, practically _announcing_ his insecurities and difficulty relating to others in an obvious, undignified way that made Squall feel even _more_ uncomfortable than he had been initially. 

Squall finally responded to his brother, glancing over at him with a little grin despite it all. "You're better at hiding it." 

Noctis laughed at the admission, flicking him on the cheek only for Squall to scowl in annoyance. 

"Loosen up, otōto!" Noctis said, still chuckling quietly. 

"Why I need the drink." 

There was a knock on the door, accompanied by their father's muffled voice. "Boys?" 

"Yeah?" they called at the same time, smiling at each other in silent agreement that they would continue this half-assed argument later. 

"Are you nearly ready?" 

Noctis turned away from Squall to briefly inspect himself in the long, wide mirror that stretched across most of the entire back wall of their dressing room. After Squall assumed he'd internally deemed himself presentable, he answered, "Uh, yeah. Come in," in a loud enough voice that their father could hear. 

Regis opened the door and stepped inside, looking as regal and graceful as a king should (which was, truthfully, his appearance no matter the circumstance). Squall felt slightly embarrassed at the way he smiled at him and his brother, looking between them with pride clear in his light green eyes. 

"Ah, you two look handsome," he remarked sincerely, causing Squall to quickly drop his gaze to the floor, noting out of his peripheral vision Noctis's own typical flustered reaction to their father's compliments, which was to run a hand through his already messy hair, most likely also avoiding eye contact. 

"You've both grown up so quickly..." Regis trailed off. Squall looked up at that, seeing his father shake his head as if stopping himself. He couldn't deny the rush of relief he felt knowing they wouldn't be having an emotional _'my-kids-are-turning-into-adults-too-fast'_ sort of conversation tonight. 

"Never mind that, however. I hope you two have a good time tonight. Be on your best behaviour - you never know who you might meet on a night like this. There is always the potential that you're speaking with your future spouse." He laughed good-naturedly at the matching blushes his sons wore. 

Squall swallowed down the lump that became present in his throat again at the prospect of meeting someone special. He doubted it would happen, and yet the thought still made his palms sweat and his heart speed up a couple of paces. 

"And please don't have more than _one_ glass of wine, Noctis," their father added. 

"What?" Noctis asked innocently. "I'm not saying I wanna get wasted or anything! But what if I _forget_ that I already had a glass and then later, I happen to have another..." 

Regis raised an eyebrow. "I'll have Ignis watch you, if you think you need the supervision." 

Squall smirked, while one look at his brother told him Noctis was having trouble not to roll his eyes at that particular comment. 

"I'll be good, Dad," Noctis assured him, raising his hands in surrender. "Promise." 

"Good. And I know you've never expressed much interest in anyone before, but tonight may be different." 

Squall was a little surprised that his father had returned to this subject again, and he watched Noctis's reaction closely. 

"You think I'll meet the love of my life at nineteen?" his brother asked, toying with his hair once more as he let out an awkward chuckle. 

"Not necessarily... But you could. I was nineteen when I met your mother, after all." 

It was a sweet story the boys had heard many times. Their father, being less withdrawn from others as a teenager (not to mention a bit friendlier), had met their mother at a nearby village's festival that took place during the final week of September. It celebrated new beginnings, centred around the changing colours of the leaves and cool weather coming in. When Regis told the story, he left out most of the details surrounding his encounter with a very kind woman watching over some of the village children, but he always mentioned that he knew they would end up together from the first conversation they shared. Her name was Ame, and they were married a year later. 

Squall watched his father smile at Noctis, as though they were sharing a secret memory together. This often happened when the boys' mother came up in conversation, and Squall tried not to feel any bitterness that came from witnessing these kinds of interactions. It wasn't that he felt excluded, per say. They were a family, and he always felt like he belonged. But there were several moments he felt that gross feeling - envy - creep up, like a strange insect crawling upon his skin and leaving him with a distressing discomfort that he didn't really know how to handle. He'd been four years old when she'd passed away, and he had not one distinct memory of her. 

Sometimes Squall wondered if this was why Noctis and his father were so close - they could comfort each other when they were missing Ame. Squall didn't miss her; he _couldn't,_ because he had nothing to cling to. Missing someone you didn't remember being in your life proved difficult, and Squall felt an awkward disconnect during these moments, either exiting the conversation entirely or just listening, never contributing a word. For what could he say? It wasn't his place to reminisce with them when he could hardly even remember what his mother _looked_ like. 

"Chin up, son," Regis quietly cut into his thoughts, lifting a finger to aid him. "You mustn't look so grouchy all the time. Smile," he suggested light-heartedly, winking at him and delighting in the minuscule quirk of Squall's lips that replaced his grumpy look. "Guests should be arriving shortly... I expect you two to join everyone within the half hour," he added, addressing Squall and Noctis in turn with his gaze. 

Squall let out a long sigh the moment the door closed behind his father. His suffering would properly begin the second he and his brother walked into the ballroom. His fate was unavoidable. 

Hoping to kill a little more time, Squall thought back to his father's comments on the possibility that he or Noctis may meet someone special tonight. 

"Ever feel like you're being auctioned off?" he asked his brother with a growing smirk. 

"What?" Noctis laughed, turning to face him. 

"With all of Dad's hinting at you lately... to find your future wife ... ?" 

"Or husband," he reminded Squall. 

"Right. Sorry." 

His brother waved a hand flippantly. "Just a wait a couple of years, Squallie. After I've found my partner, _you'll _be the one feeling like that." 

"If you manage to find someone who can _stand_ your sass enough to be stuck with you the rest of their life, introduce us. I need advice." 

His older sibling clicked his tongue. "Don't give that attitude at the ball or you'll risk hurting the feelings of some pretty boy who asks you for a dance." 

"Never a pretty boy," he grumbled as he put in his studs, wincing slightly at the sharp poke that he felt after not wearing any earrings for so long. He tended to only wear them on occasions. "Always a snobby girl." 

Most of the girls he'd been invited to dance with throughout his teenage years had more or less demanded it of him. And when it inevitably became clear throughout their shuffling across the dance floor that Squall would rather be doing_ anything_ other than that, his dancing partner would quickly move on, most likely heading straight for the other prince of Lucis, whom Squall had to admit was very charming when he wanted to be. And even when he didn't have _any_ interest in the people surrounding him - which was pretty much standard at every summer's ball - Noctis was just naturally better with people (while somehow managing to hide the fact that he was actually an asshole, as Squall could attest to). 

Noctis rolled his eyes at the complaint before turning to face the mirror again, trying to sort out his disheveled hair to no avail. "Well, keep your eyes peeled for _'the one' _and who knows? Maybe you'll be able to take him off his feet. Or he could do that for you, whatever you prefer," he smirked knowingly as he reached for a comb and began carding it through his thick bangs. 

Squall narrowed his eyes. "Ass," he spat under his breath, ignoring the warmth he felt gathering in his cheeks from his brother's tease. 

"Remember what I just said otōto? Never gonna win over your soulmate with such crass language!" 

"Shut up. Not trying to win _you_ over." 

"Ouch," Noctis replied with a wide grin, making eye contact with Squall through his reflection in the mirror. "You wound me, Squall," he complained, clutching at his heart dramatically, though his laughter lessened the effect. 

_"... Whatever." _

— ♥ — 

He had avoided people as much as he could over the past twenty minutes or so, observing the front doors where guests continued to file in at scattered intervals, many coming in pairs and some coming in small groups of friends, all dressed in their nicest suits and dresses, many of the women in evening gowns that sparkled under the warm golden lights hanging from the tall ceiling.

Squall was highly aware that he had lucked out so far, not having anyone come up to him just yet. That might have been because he was hiding out near the food and drinks towards the opposite end of the main doors to the massive ballroom, where there were many seats aligned at long, decourated tables.

There was a superfluous amount of decadent food - of such a vast variety that one could have an entire five-course meal if they wished - but there were also many ordervs and desserts. Squall was hoping he could just sit over here and avoid eye contact with anyone who approached for their own food or beverage. Seemed like a foolproof plan. 

He let his eyes scan over the crowds of people, listening to the orchestra play quietly in the background of the chatter. He couldn't help but sigh to himself when he idly searched for his brother with his eyes, wondering where he could have gone off to in the short amount of time that had passed. Seriously, where was he? Perhaps behind one of the pillars, talking with Ignis or Gladio... that was his best guess. 

Then again, there was a group of people dancing in the middle of the ballroom, and for all he knew, Noctis was already charming his way through a dance with someone. Not that he really needed to. That was another thing Noctis was better at than Squall - dancing. So no matter whom he conversed with, he was bound to charm them enough that if he didn't ask them to dance out of politeness, they would ask him and of course, he wouldn't refuse. 

Squall snorted at the sight of two people near the middle of the crowd of dancers, a man and a woman dancing with what even he considered little grace. They looked like they were having a good time, however, as the tall man with long, somewhat spiky black hair twirled around his partner, a woman only a few inches shorter than him in a lovely pink dress. They moved together in steps that were not matched to the rhythm of the classical music the orchestra played, smiling and adding strange flourishes here and there that Squall found himself impressed by, even if they weren't the most precise and accurate movements. He admired how they moved together, so at ease and completely wrapped up in one another. 

He picked up a wine bottle at random - every single option (in which there were many) came from the Lucian vineyards their family owned - to pour himself that drink he'd wanted from the very moment he'd woken up this morning and remembered it was the fateful day of June in which the summertime ball would be held. Squall had chosen the darkest one - a very rich red that appeared almost plum-coloured under the golden-hued light of the ballroom - amongst the thirty-some bottles lined up on one of the long tables. He had no idea what it would taste like but didn't care all that much. He needed at least one glass to calm his bubbling nerves... 

He was so focused on pouring himself a decent-sized serving that he had failed to notice the presence of another person standing just a metre or two away from him. 

Squall nearly jumped out of his skin when they cleared their throat. He almost dropped the bottle of wine he'd just finished pouring and had yet to set back down on the table (and wouldn't that have been just the sort of mortification that would take his already crumbling social awkwardness to an untimely demise?). 

"Avoiding the crowd?" the young man asked. Squall gaped for a second before he'd even properly looked at him, heart suddenly beating rather sporadically. What a question... was he really that _obvious? _And how long had this guy been standing here, watching him? 

He was wearing a maroon suit - buttoned up to his upper chest, enough to show the white dress shirt underneath - and matching coloured pants. While the suit itself was one to admire, none of his clothing compared to the man wearing it. 

The young prince just looked at him for another moment, enough that it was bordering on _staring_. He couldn't help it, however - the man standing before him had such unique features. 

Perhaps the most obvious quirk was his incredibly spiky hair - much different than the spikes of the man he'd been watching dance with his partner across the room. These spikes stuck straight up into the air, the strands a light shade of white-blonde. Judging by how soft it looked, Squall could only conclude that it was his natural hairstyle, free of product. 

It was almost as if he had stepped gracefully out of a painting, made up of meticulate, smooth brushstrokes except for the angular, strong jawline. His lips were plush-looking, bottom lip just the slightest bit fuller than the upper, both unmarred by any bite marks.

His _eyes_, however, were the most striking part of his appearance, even moreso than the gravity-defying hair. He had the brightest eyes Squall had ever seen ... ! They were mostly a lovely blue, a hue that closely resembled the sky on a perfect spring afternoon, while the innermost rings of his irises were a shocking green that seeped into the blue like an ocean's palette of cool shades mixing together in startling watercolour. 

He was looking back at Squall with an expectant (if not skeptical) gaze, and wait ... he had just asked him a question, hadn't he? He was a little surprised that the orchestra hadn't abruptly started playing some dreary dirge to accompany his social death. 

Squall couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd asked, so he just offered an awkward, forced smile before his eyes dropped to the table, where he finally set the wine bottle down next to his glass. How long had he just been standing here, clutching a bottle of wine in his hands and staring like an idiot? 

Maybe it was better that he didn't know the answer to that. 

"If it makes you feel better, that's the same reason I came over here," the guest told him with a slightly sheepish smile of his own. "Good?" he asked, nodding at the glass that Squall had yet to have a single sip of. 

The prince hesitated, reaching for his glass and finally putting it to his lips, sipping down a little more than was necessary just to taste the flavour and offer his opinion. He gave a stunted nod of his head. 

"Well?" came the soft voice of his new acquaintance. 

"Tastes like... wine," he murmured in response, immediately cringing at his own idiocy. His lackluster review probably came across as a smart ass comment. (It was also _definitely_ something his brother would say, which made it this much worse - albeit, only within Squall's own mind.) 

"Really?" the blonde asked, and though he sounded unimpressed, Squall didn't miss the pull of his lips at the right corner. _Thank Six ... ! _

He hesitated before he offered his glass out to his acquaintance to try. He realised a few seconds too late that he could've just let him pour himself his own drink, but that would've been the more socially acceptable thing to do, so of course he naturally did the opposite. Now he had awkwardly invited him to share the glass he'd already taken a drink from. 

The stranger didn't seem bothered, however, as he reached forward and grasped the glass carefully, their fingers brushing together for the briefest moment. Squall felt his face heat up. He watched as his peer raised the glass to his mouth and took a small sip. 

"It's... _very_ good," he approved, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. He took another sip, this one longer than the last, before handing it back to Squall. 

The young prince shook his head with a faint smile. "It's all yours. I'm not much of a drinker," he said pointlessly, distantly aware that he had just given up his only hope for calming his anxiety. He sighed softly as the stranger scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. 

"Okay. Thank you," he said with a grateful smile up at him (briefly drawing his attention to their height difference; he was almost a head shorter than Squall). And if he wasn't mistaken, the teen thought he caught a slight tinge of pink to his otherwise pale cheeks. It was, admittedly, quite endearing. The blow to his pride retroactively became worthwhile, just to witness that reaction.

"I feel like I should be thanking the king himself. This is... amazing wine," the soft-spoken man continued, drinking some more before setting it down on the table next to them. 

"Yeah," Squall murmured dumbly, willing his heart rate to slow down. He'd felt it begin pattering faster, just as he'd handed over his glass. "I apologise," he added weakly as an afterthought. "This is... not my strong suit." 

A blink. Then a curious, "What isn't?" 

"Social interaction," Squall mumbled, looking away again and wishing he'd chosen a better way to phrase his struggle. 

He was brought back to the present when the young man actually laughed at that, drawing Squall in with its musical quality. It was, somehow, even a little calming to his nerves. 

Maybe he wouldn't need the alcohol after all. 

"I'm Cloud. Nice to meet you," the blonde said with another smile pulling at his lips.  He bowed, in a playful way that Squall could tell was merely for appearances, and not because he knew Squall was one of the members of the royal family that was putting on this very event. 

For some unknown reason, Squall felt relieved by that notion. 

_Cloud. What a beautiful name._

"I went first, now it's your turn," Cloud said lightly, amusement in his blue-green eyes. 

Squall ran a hand through his hair as his brain went a mile a minute, putting pieces together and coming to the only logical conclusion based upon Cloud's words, which were not only teasing, but also held a genuine question within them. Cloud had given no signs whatsoever that he knew he was talking to one of the princes of Lucis, and Squall couldn't have been more grateful for that. 

_"Uh..."_ Eloquent. 

"I didn't quite catch that," Cloud said helpfully, leaning towards Squall with an expectant gaze. 

He looked off to the side, glancing at the orchestra. His eye caught onto a nearby violin case resting on the white marble floor. It was upside down from his view, but the manufacturer of either the violin or case or both - he had no clue and he didn't give a damn - was Leonardo something or other. 

"Leon," he said, louder this time so Cloud was able to catch the pseudonym tumbling from his lips. 

"Leon," the blonde replied, nodding. "You look like a Leon." 

Squall had no idea what to say at that, but a part of him died on the inside.

On second thought, he definitely still needed that drink. He really was not cut out for this. 

"W-what do you mean by that?" he asked, all too aware of how idiotic he sounded, stuttering like a kid again, when he didn't have the ability to speak proper sentences without his speech impediment getting in the way. 

"I… I don't know, really," Cloud shrugged. Perhaps Squall wasn't the only one feeling awkward with speech tonight; it seemed he had caught his acquaintance off guard. 

"I mean, um… it's a good thing, I can tell you that," he added, and Squall felt a gooey sensation in his stomach at the dazzling smile he gave him, this time showing off pearly teeth. 

Never mind. It was just him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never knew I needed Noct and Squall as siblings until I started writing this!
> 
> As you can see by the tags, this story includes both Strifehart and Promptis. I promise they will both be main pairings. Prompto will be introduced in the next chapter ♥
> 
> Please point out any English mistakes if I made any; I would really appreciate it and I will fix them right away. Thank you very much. 
> 
> Hope


End file.
